


hoard of knowledge

by belatedwannable



Category: ATEEZ (Band), ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Dragon Youngjo, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Gen, Human Librarian Seonghwa, Insecurity, Mage Seoho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belatedwannable/pseuds/belatedwannable
Summary: As a dragon, Youngjo hoards books and manuscripts in his cave dwelling. After centuries of being the sole caretaker of his collection, he hires a librarian, a certain Seonghwa.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn & Park Seonghwa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	hoard of knowledge

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Preface: This fic would not be published without the amazing beta-ing of Rene and the constant encouragement of Tofu. I love you both so much! Thank you! I also want to thank the mod of the Leviathan Fest for being so gracious and to whomever prompted this with "a dragon hoards something other than riches," thank you for the gift of a brilliant spark!

Year One: The Librarian’s Arrival

Once upon a time, for that is how these sorts of stories start, a dragon hatched in a cave beneath the starry skies. In some ways, he was exactly like the others of his species, born to crave and collect the desires of his heart. In others, he was an enigma even to his own kind. Where other dragons wanted to use their wings to roam the world, pursuing their collections live and in person, Youngjo was cautious, preferring to stay inside his home and allowing his collection to come to him, little by little. Through gifts, trades, and auctions, he chose each piece and brought it into his collection.

Even before he knew how to read, Youngjo knew that his heart's desire would always be books and manuscripts. There was something equally addicting and comforting about them to him, even if he didn't fully understand the messages written on their surfaces. The rustle of paper, the swooshes of ink, and the texture of the bindings. All of these elements combined to make a spell of sorts, the ordinary sort of magic that binds a being's heart to an interest for a lifetime.

After almost half a millenium of nurturing his collection all by himself, the time has come for Youngjo to add another element to his library: his very first librarian. He can feel the nerves simmering just beneath the surface of his scales. He's gone this long without a librarian. What if this addition damages his hoard? What if it damages him? His mage friend, Seoho, has done his best, but what if all the magic in the world is not enough to bring a decent being to his cave?

He takes a deep breath and remembers all that has led up to this moment. It started, unlikely as it seems, with robes. Dragons aren’t known for their taste in fashion. Youngjo has read of countless dragons who choose to stay nude for the entirety of their long lives. This is perfectly acceptable in dragon culture, but Youngjo has his own preferences. Sometime over the centuries, he fell in love with other elements of societies beyond his own kind.

The life of a dragon is generally a solitary one, but Youngjo got lucky two centuries after his birth when he befriended Seoho, a powerful mage who lives in a cozy cottage halfway down Youngjo’s mountain. Seoho grants the dragon one wish (within reason) on his birthday each year. One of his first wishes, over a century ago, was for a charmed fireplace within the library. It was designed to capture and eventually extinguish errant coughs, sneezes, and shouts, any flame that might arise from Youngjo and endanger the books. Another early wish was for magic lamps that did not use fire so that he could read to his heart's content deep in the recesses of the cave. The mage even made it so that the lamps came on when a being was present and turned off when they walked away.

Where other dragons had to hunt down wealth before they acquired their collections, Youngjo had no such issue. He was hatched quite literally onto wealth. His cave was full of gold coins. In this realm, dragons rarely met their parents, if ever. Instead, dragon parents would pool some of their wealth to get their offspring on their journeys as soon as possible. Youngjo's parents, whoever they were, must have been among the wealthiest dragons in the world. And if he ever ran low on funds, which would be at least another century or so, he could always use his birthday wish to generate more currency.

The vast majority of his requests for Seoho, however, have been for attire. Other dragons may love their scales enough to show them all off at once, but Youngjo possessed both a deep-seated insecurity and an interest in fashion. More specifically, he was obsessed with robes. Elven robes with floor-length sleeves, Japanese kimonos with deep sleeve pockets, Korean hanbok with silken designs, Roman togas with draped linen, and English dressing gowns covered in plush velvet. He loved them all, but never wanted to venture far enough from his cave to find a tailor to make them. Hence, he had used his wish every year in recent memory to acquire a magic robe. He spent a significant amount of time throughout the year researching styles both ancient and modern in order to present a specific request to Seoho. There were times when he couldn’t find exactly what he wanted, so he sketched it himself, but that happened only once every twenty years or so.

This past year's birthday was different from the routine they had established. Though he was loath to admit it, Youngjo knew he needed a librarian. After a series of near-disasters in which he almost set his library aflame (an untamable cough that dragged on for months, a sudden sneeze while he was brushing some dust off a volume, and a pesky case of the hiccups), he knew assistance was necessary. And besides, the collection was long overdue for a good cataloguing. Youngjo's memory was excellent, far beyond the capacity of humans, for example, but the vastness of his hoard was beginning to stretch even his own memory systems.

And so, he came to Seoho for his birthday wish. As was tradition, they celebrated over roasted meat and wine. "This year, I wish not for a new garment." Seoho raised his eyebrow at Youngjo, clearly intrigued as he waited for him to finish his line of thought. "I wish to acquire a librarian."

Seoho opened his mouth to restate the light magic rule that he was not allowed to compel any beings against their will, but Youngjo pressed on. "I know you can't require anyone to come here by force. I only request that the job covertly come to the attention of a being equally desirous and deserving of it, should such a being exist on the face of this earth. As you can imagine, making my collection and my identity public knowledge has the potential to be disastrous." Seoho nodded, understanding the enormity of the consequences.

Youngjo continued, "I know that this is a strange request and if you are unable to assist me with it, then I understand and you need feel no obligation to grant it. Our friendship shall remain steadfast regardless."

Seoho held up his hand to halt what promised to be an endless stream of Youngjo's speech. "I can do as you request, but I require a list of the qualifications and characteristics you deem necessary. Feel free to include any other desirable traits in a separate list and I shall endeavor to craft an invitation with those in mind. I like this challenge. It will test my skills in a new way. No offense, but additions to your robe collection do not require as much complicated magic as you might think, though your pickiness about the draping has given me plenty of headaches over the years."

They both fell silent as they replayed memories of Seoho pointing to sketches, complaining about the physical impossibility of replicating the fabric’s drape, that it would destroy the metaphorical fabric of time and space. The night passed in a pleasant haze of swapping stories, reminiscing, and playfully teasing one another. Youngjo began his list the very next day and submitted it three days later.

A month later, an inquiry came on monogrammed stationery, implying that its author was put-together, or at least, well-connected. The ink was a deep blue, matching the color of his own scales. The seal was gold. A being who appreciated aesthetics as well as books. An excellent sign.

The author introduced himself as Seonghwa Park, a human rare books and manuscripts specialist at one of the premier British auction houses. Apparently, he monitored some recent high-profile sales, breaking one of the unspoken rules of his profession, and found that several of the most prized items had been delivered to a certain reclusive being in a cave high in the mountains. 

And so, Youngjo found a letter addressed to himself, tucked neatly just inside the front cover of one of his most anticipated purchases, a richly illustrated manuscript about legendary Chinese dragons. 

_Dear Esteemed Owner of this volume,_

_I will not bother to mention how valuable this work is as I am convinced you already know. However, it has come to my attention that your collection has grown rather considerably in the recent months and I thought that perhaps you could use some assistance with its care and keeping. If this inquiry seems to you an insult, I do apologize. I do not mean to imply that you cannot care for it on your own or that you do not already have assistance. I merely wanted to offer myself and my services as a possible option._

_My name is Park Seonghwa and I am currently employed at an auction house as a rare books and manuscripts specialist. Before my job here, I was a librarian for several years and my first position was in a town at the base of your mountain dwelling. As it happens, I have an old friend there whom I’ve been meaning to visit for months now. If I receive permission from you for a visit, I shall be happy to make the climb._

_I would not require payment for my librarian services. As you can imagine, my high-ranking positions have afforded me a wealth of resources stored away already, despite my young age. However, I would have one condition upon entering your employ. Though I currently work as an appraiser of the goods that come through our doors, I am a researcher at heart and my current topic of interest is dragonkind. You seem to have amassed the majority of literature on the topic, so I am writing to you not only to offer my services but also to request your assistance with my own quest for knowledge. I would only require a desk of my own, a few hours of uninterrupted study, and the agreement that my research shall be known only to myself until I indicate otherwise. If these terms are amenable to you, please write back to…_

Youngjo memorized the letter thoroughly as he prepared for their first meeting, but now, his thoughts turn towards himself. He studies his reflection in the mirror. An expanse of deep blue scales flecked with gold ones greets him. Though his skin went through several rounds of shedding, especially in his early centuries, he has never felt comfortable in it. Youngjo will never confess it aloud, but he's always thought that he wasn't quite dragon-colored, too calm and cool like a placid sea. This would have been all well and good had he been a Sea dragon, but he was an Eastern Earth dragon. From all the research he's done, his species ought to be the colors of the fire inside them: reds, oranges, and golds that conveyed the heat of their flames. And yet, here he stands, wondering whether this stranger will turn and run at the sight of him.

* * *

Seonghwa walks up the mountain path, pausing every occasionally to take in the view, breathing in the crisp morning air. He wants to make a good impression by being punctual and professional, which is why he’s dressed in his best suit, black with grey pinstripes and a silver pocket watch. 

His new employer mentioned that he himself was a dragon whose hoard and rare book collection were one and the same, but Seonghwa has no idea what his appearance is. Over the past month of preparations, he has rehearsed every possibility from the colorful (scales the color of the rainbow) to the improbable (a rare species of feathered dragon thought to be extinct). As he approaches the mouth of the cave, he rehearses the honorifics for Eastern Earth dragons that he read about last week and takes a deep breath to steady himself. His heartbeat is racing from the anticipation. Not since he authenticated his first manuscript has he felt this combination of thrill and terror.

When he arrives at the mouth of the cave, Seonghwa bows respectfully before the dragon and pronounces the traditional greeting. “O mighty, ancient one, it is an honor to stand in your presence. I approach your hoard, not to plunder, but to learn.”

Youngjo smiles, his nerves fading as he realizes what’s going on. “You can get up, it’s alright. Most of us don’t need humans to bow before us, but I see you’ve read Jamieson’s popular guide to Eastern Earth Dragons. He somehow selected the most eccentric individuals for his research and used their quirks to mischaracterize the rest of us. And there’s no need for the honorifics. All of the traditional ones take far too long to say anyways. I prefer efficiency in communication.”

Seonghwa nods, looking relieved. “Correcting errors in my research is why I’m here. And assisting you, of course.”

“Come in, allow me to give you a tour.” Youngjo leads the way down the long hallway to the many shelves that house his hoard. Seonghwa follows behind, looking absolutely enchanted by the books, documents, and scrolls that are tucked haphazardly on top of one another. Youngjo had attempted to tidy up before his guest arrived, but the mess was so vast that the clean-up was a little less thorough than he wanted. However, the chaos does not appear to startle Seonghwa. He seems to be excited to start putting things in order, but even more excited to start the quest of pursuing his research. And that’s when Youngjo begins to hope that Seoho’s spell might have worked after all, that it might have sent a kindred spirit to his doorstep.

The first few months pass peacefully as they learn one another’s quirks and routines. Youngjo learns that Seonghwa has a distaste for coffee, but a love for his morning and evening cups of tea. Seonghwa learns that Youngjo struggles to find a comfortable reading position. The dragon has done some research on the topic, but he can only find partial solutions among the documented options. His wings don’t make it easy, though his forked tail does help with turning pages. 

Youngjo finds that Seonghwa will pause to gather his thoughts before answering and Seonghwa discovers Youngjo likes to do the same. They’re both comfortable working in silence and they quickly ease into patterns that suit themselves and each other very well indeed. The dragon is surprised that the mere presence of another being can so increase his productivity. They are excellent co-workers, not quite friends, but there is potential. All is calm for a time.

But then, the books begin to vanish. The absences start small, literally. Youngjo first discovers that a small leather-bound medieval book has gone missing from the cataloged shelf where it belongs, interestingly on miniscule dragon forms which the author charmingly calls “ _serpents de petit taille_ ” or “snakes of small size”. He asks Seonghwa about it the next day. “Did you see that small dragon book? I remember you mentioning it last week, but I can’t seem to find it.”

The librarian looks puzzled. “Wasn’t it on the shelf I went through yesterday?” He walks to the shelf where Youngjo is standing and studies it carefully, mentally going through the ascending numbers he assigned them once, twice, thrice. And still, no book to be found. Later, Seonghwa appears frustrated when an hours-long search comes up empty, but they both hope that it will be found eventually.

With a disturbing regularity, they discover that more books are missing from the shelves over the weeks that follow. Youngjo would swear he doesn’t mean to mistrust his librarian, but the thought crosses his mind. Just once at first, but then suspicion takes root and begins to undermine the collegial relationship they were building. 

No, it couldn’t be, Youngjo tells himself, Seoho’s spell _chose_ Seonghwa according to the specifications. He goes back and rereads the list of qualifications he outlined months before. He vividly remembers agonizing over every item, painting worst-case scenarios, taking each trait to its extreme. He did not put honesty on the list because he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to handle the harsher versions of that trait. He did not include loyalty because he’s always been wary of power and the ways in which it is abused, so he wanted nothing to interfere with the librarian’s free will. Now, these particular omissions haunt his waking hours. What if he made a mistake? What if he unknowingly introduced a thief to his hoard? Youngjo knows that it would break his heart if all this could have been avoided with a few extra words from his past self. He can see himself writing the list, going back to his past self and explaining the situation. He can envision it so clearly, but he knows that time travel is for literature, not a reality in this universe.

When the list of missing books grows to double digits, Youngjo is angry enough to take action, but he does not want Seonghwa to know that he’s on to him, if it is indeed the librarian behind the scheme. So, he attempts to keep their interactions normal with a wry comment over morning tea, advice makes up his mind to stay up all night for as long as it takes to catch the criminal mastermind behind the thefts.

It takes a few nights, which makes disguising his exhaustion in front of Seonghwa more and more difficult. He cycles between “resting his eyes”, “bad dreams last night,” and “mistimed my afternoon coffee,” but he can tell from the way Seonghwa looks at him with concern for a moment longer than necessary after each excuse that the librarian doesn’t fully believe him. However, this deception is all in the name of a good cause, or so Youngjo tells himself.

In the wee hours of the morning, another midnight a distant memory in Youngjo’s hazy mind, he stands behind a shelf. Rarely does he feel like a predator, despite his more feral features, but tonight, he feels something primal, something dangerous. Any being to come into his territory does so at their own risk and Youngjo is prepared to rain wrath upon them.

A faint thought of giving up and going to sleep takes shape, but the dragon clings to the glimmer of hope that if he just holds on, this whole affair will be finished and he can rest easy. The promise of this particular weight off his chest keeps him standing in place, his fingers brushing a beloved volume of dragon odes to comfort him as he waits. 

Suddenly, he sees it. A light at the entrance to his cave, the warm orange glow, a typically welcoming sight now looking like a warning signal. At first, Youngjo wonders whether he’s hallucinating from sleep deprivation, but he shakes his head and blinks his eyes and the glow remains. 

And it’s getting closer.

Summoning a growl, the most intimidating sound he can muster, Youngjo rushes down the hall to confront the intruder. He pins the would-be thief to the wall, careful to avoid a shelf of reference works, and finds himself… face-to-face with a total stranger.

The dragon’s brain short-circuits as he attempts to recognize this person, but he’s coming up blank. The first thing out of his mouth is the opposite of intimidating. “You’re not Seonghwa.”

The stranger narrows his eyes at the dragon keeping him in place, “Who’s Seonghwa?”

“Who are you?”

The man holds his head high, defiant despite a considerably large dragon looming over him, teeth bared. “I don’t have to answer that. My identity is none of your concern.”

Youngjo snarls, “It’s my concern when you have trespassed into my home in the dead of night. What is your purpose in entering my cave?”

“I stumbled upon this cavern in my explorations of the mountain. As there was no sign instructing me to beware, I entered and found a treasure trove. You ought to guard your hoard better if you take issue with opportunity-seeking beings like me using some of your collection to get ahead in life.” There’s a smug smirk on the stranger’s face that Youngjo wants badly to erase, but he keeps himself in check. There is a greater danger to address.

“Who are your co-conspirators? Who led you here?”

The thief looks deeply offended. “Nobody led me here. How many times must I tell you that I found this on my own? How dare you suggest that a professional such as myself would require the help of another!”

It’s almost dawn and somewhere in the back of Youngjo’s mind, there’s an alarm going off that the questioning ought to be brought to a speedy conclusion, but he’s sleep-deprived and ignores that instinctual feeling in favor of shouting the question on his heart at the man before him. “What does Seonghwa have to do with this plot?!”

The man before him holds up both his hands in surrender as he explains for the third time, “I don’t know a Seonghwa. I saw a path and it led me here. I found the stash and figured it might be worth a gold coin or two, so I kept them in my house, waiting for my art merchant friend to pass through town. They’re there now if you just let me go back and…”

Youngjo towers over him, “No, there will be no _going_ anywhere until you tell me how my librarian is involved in all of this nonsense.” He hears a noise from the entrance and he looks up, instantly realizing what his unsettled feeling was attempting to remind him. On Fridays, Seonghwa arrives extra early.

Seonghwa stands at the mouth of the cave and one look at his face tells Youngjo that he’s heard everything. He looks devastated and angry. The words from his lips sting like vitriol. “How could you? You thought it was me? Even after he said time and again that he did not know me. And I’ve never seen him in my life, but that doesn’t matter at all. What matters is that you saw me as someone who would go behind your back to _rob_ you of what you’ve gathered. As a thief who wanted nothing more than material gain. What have I ever done to earn your mistrust?” The pure hurt shining through the unshed tears in Seonghwa’s eyes also tells Youngjo that the librarian is absolutely innocent and everything the dragon suspected wasn’t, couldn’t be true. There is a certain level of sorrow that one simply cannot falsify. And now, Youngjo must pay the price.

The dragon starts toward the librarian’s retreating form, a thousand explanations growing and dying on his lips, rushing through his mind. All his thoughts are yelling at him to _make things right, tell him why you don’t let new folk into your life, tell him everything_. And yet, the only thing he can say is “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Seonghwa’s dark eyes glitter with unshed tears as he continues to back away. “I don’t trust myself to be around here, around you right now. I need to go home. I don’t know when I will return.” But he pauses just before turning down the mountain path, as if he’s waiting to be asked to stay. 

Youngjo doesn’t try to keep him, too caught up in his own regret and growing exhaustion. He marches the thief down to Seoho’s cottage and asks him to retrieve the books and exile this human to a land far from Youngjo, never to return. The mage agrees and asks about Seonghwa, but Youngjo’s silence and the way he’s swaying on his feet, not far from collapse, makes Seoho drop the topic in favor of casting a teleportation spell to bring Youngjo straight to his own bed.

So, Seonghwa leaves and doesn’t return for three days. Those three days feel like an eternity for the dragon as he plays and replays the events from his armchair, steeping in self-doubt and reprimand. Seoho gifts him with a proper security system that alerts Youngjo if anyone sets foot in the cave without permission. Dragon fire from several rounds of Youngjo’s yelling gets captured in the fireplace and though he tries time and again, he cannot seem to find solace in even his most beloved books. Every written word reminds him of Seonghwa.

When the librarian returns, he makes a wordless entrance into the cave, appearing one morning and silently heading towards a shelf to resume his cataloging as if nothing happened. The retrieved books find their way back to their places as the two beings hesitantly find their way back into their routines. Youngjo doesn’t say a word, afraid to break the quiet and send Seonghwa running again.

For what feels like an endless span of days, they both walk on eggshells. They don’t even look at each other as if locking eyes could unlock their tense silence and unleash a storm of emotions from which they might never recover. 

Youngjo braces for what he sees as the inevitable news that Seonghwa wants to leave his position and never see the dragon again. It is a defense mechanism as old as the ages. If he expects the worst, he can never be disappointed, only delightfully surprised. Youngjo prepares gracious farewell speeches over and over in his mind, so when Seonghwa finally requests a conversation, the dragon fears the worst. No preparation can fully remove the knot in his stomach as he anticipates a difficult goodbye.

Seonghwa looks at him with a hint of what Youngjo sees as sadness, all but confirming his deepest fears. “I’ve given this a great deal of thought. It was not an easy thing to ponder.”

Youngjo tries so hard to hold his tongue, even biting the tip to prevent himself from speaking, but his nerves get the best of him and he rushes to intercept the news he fully anticipates. “I understand that you desire to leave your position and I assure you that I will be happy to provide any recommendations you may require. I wish you nothing but the best.”

The librarian’s mouth hangs open in shock. He clearly struggles to compose himself before stammering out a reply, “Oh, y-you want me to resign?” Seonghwa begins slowly backing away towards the exit, the action bringing back memories of the fateful morning that started all this. “If that’s what you want, I will accept your decision...”

This time, Youngjo finds the words he needs. “Wait, no. I just thought...I thought that’s what you were going to say.” He says the next sentence in the smallest voice Seonghwa has ever heard him use, “I thought that is what you desired.”

The librarian halts his movements and looks Youngjo directly in the eye, assessing the dragon’s sincerity. He must find what he seeks because his expression, posture, and tone shift, now tender and reassuring. “If I wanted to go, I would already have gone, but I did not and I do not desire to leave this position or your presence. The matter that I have been turning over in my mind is the reason you suspected me. At first, I thought it was something I had done wrong, a serious error or mistake I made that made you doubt my intentions.” 

Youngjo opens his mouth to reassure him that this was far from the case, but Seonghwa forges ahead. “I realized after a day of reviewing my performance with an analytic lens that your suspicion most likely had nothing to do with me. It was a default step in deduction, one that I would have easily made myself. I was the only new addition to your life in the time just before the thefts. Everyone else had been thoroughly vetted by time and experience, everyone except myself. So, I do not blame you for your suspicion and I wish to remain as your librarian for as long as you agree to have me.”

A silence settles between them as Youngjo processes the information Seonghwa has given him. He wants to stay. He understands. He’s giving Youngjo a chance to make things right. A smile crosses the dragon’s face for the first time in weeks. “I would very much like you to stay on as my librarian. I apologize for my behavior. As you’ve observed, I do not let very many living souls into my presence, much less my home. I should have handled things differently in a way that mitigated your suffering. You had every right to be hurt and I deeply regret my actions. I promise to learn from these events and henceforth, I have every hope that our collegiality can return to the level we attained before. I’m happy to have you here. You add much to my life and I hope that I can return the grace and understanding you’ve shown me.” Seonghwa returns the smile, letting Youngjo know that all is forgiven and in the following days, they find their equilibrium once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Postscript: I wrote this months ago, but refused for a long time to publish it before the entire saga I had outlined was completed. I have an entire arc for this universe and I am deeply in love with it. However, this story stands alone quite well, so perhaps I'll finish those other parts someday, but for now, here is the start of a journey with the potential for more down the road!
> 
> As always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/belatedwannable) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/belatedwannable)! I welcome comments and conversations!


End file.
